Wrath of Wrathion
by Austro-Hungarian Empire
Summary: After Varian refused to dismantle the Horde, Wrathion feels betrayed by his choice on the subject and all choices Varian has made in the past. While Varian is still required for his future plans, Wrathion figures that perhaps a few practical pranks for means of petty revenge couldn't hurt? Rated M for pro-caution, some language and underhanded jokes. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft nor Warcraft III**

"Bah!" Wrathion spat in near disgust.

"Rgggh!" He growled, delivering a strong punch to a wall.

"AH!" He roared, hot flame erupting from his mouth.

"THAT FOOL!" He yelled, the Black Prince and only remainder of the Black Dragonflight still pacing within the confines of the inn, "I bestowed to him a gift! The offering the whole of Azeroth and he dare refuse dismantling of the Horde!"

He continued his pacing, highly bewildered and enraged by the actions of one monarch belonging to Stormwind.

'All I have provided...' He thought bitterly to himself, '...and he spares the Horde on a whim. A whim of mercy. Incompetent idiot. Complete moron. A mockery to his crown.'

The Black Prince's rage could not be quelled. Not only did Variann create a mockery of himself and the entire Alliance to which he had represented, however, he had, too, defiled the name of the infamous (supposed) son of Deathwing.

'I cannot stand for the King's decision!' The Black Prince continued in his thoughts, 'I require a sort of vengeance, even if it is only of a petty nature.''

The Black Prince began to concoct a plan in which to execute such petty revenge.

The esteemed King of Stormwind, King Varian Wrynn, sat upon his throne, his son standing to his left and the King of Gilneas on his right.

"Mil'lord." One of his royal guardsmen addressed, saluting in a military style as he stepped into the large, circular room.

"Yes?" King Varian asked patiently.

"More recruits from Pandaria recently arrived at Stormwind. Do you still seek to conference with the delegates personally?" The royal footman reported.

The King grinned at the proposal, nodding and commanded, "Send them in."

"Yes sire." The soldier replied, retreating back to fetch the Pandarians.

'How convenient' Varian mused within his own head, 'And as my daily duties had started to become dull.'

King Varian had decreed a policy in which Pandarians who had chosen to become part of the Alliance would meet with his majesty, the monarch of Stormwind and said undisputed leader of the Alliance, would speak with the new recruits personally.

The Pandarians came in more and more pairs; the increase of Pandarians were staggering to an extent. Many sought to escape the remnants of the Sha and all did not trust the Horde, after Garrosh's threat to the Shado-Pan and the almost entire destruction of Pandaria and Azeroth.

A smile always spread across Varian's features everytime he had reports of more recruits pouring into Stormwind.

The two new adventurers entered, bowing respectfully. Both were male and pertained strange staff-like constructs on their backs. Obviously, the two new recruits were monks.

"Greetings!" Varian warmly welcomed, arising from his chair, "Welcome to Stormwind, friends."

The three began to trek out of the throne room, Varian beginning to discuss the rules and regulations established within the Alliance. The three circled around the castle's courtyard, until, while in the middle of his address concerning the code of conduct with Horde Pandarians, Varian tripped and fell. His face smacked against the stone floor, his knees bumping against his armor.

He made a huff and a small cry of minimal pain.

"Are you alright?" One of the monks asked, his gaze upon the fallen king.

"I-" He began, as he rose, but then pushed forward from an invisible force. His raw face once again smacked even harder against the stone floor, his knees given a small bout of agony.

Varian groaned, his body becoming raw from armor smashing against stone to armor smashing against flesh.

Varian dimly recorded that a leg had tripped him as he walked and two hands had pushed him forward.

'Pandarians' The King suspected.

"You dare push a king, friends?" Varian accused as he rose for a second time.

"Excuse me, mil'lord?" One of the Pandarians inquired, the accusation being completely ridiculous.

"Did you-" Varian had begun once more, while he rose, before being pushed forward again, resulting in another painful collision with the stone.

Varian grew furious, a sneer crossing his features as he rose once more only to be knocked down again.

"Guards!" Varian yelled out in a rage.

The ground nearly shook, numerous sounds of clanking armor echoed throughout the keep. Finally, a huge legion of guards arrived to the king's aid.

"Sire?" A captain patiently inquired, eyeing the Pandarians carefully.

"These Pandarians have assaulted me." King Varian proclaimed, finally succeeding in standing, "Find a temporary holding area to detain them in."

"Yes Mil'lord." The Captain saluted, the guards accessorising the Pandarians with handcuffs and leading them out.

Varian stood, dusting himself off and returning to his throne.

However, still within the courtyard of the keep, the invisible Wrathion snickered to himself.

Wrathion had never been one to indulge in petty revenge, but with his plans at Garrosh's trial approaching, Wrathion believed that perhaps a few acts of petty trickery and prankish jokes were in order to divert attention away from the upcoming event.

Wrathion had called in a few favors from old and new allies. The young prince may have also stolen spells and potions from Dalaran to help him in such a childish crusade against the King of Stormwind.

The invisible Wrathion moved back within the thrown room, only to find his target absent.

Wrathion raised a curious brow, and decided to put forth his footman disguise onto his person. He approached Anduin, his friend and fellow prince, to inquire about the King's whereabouts. Wrathion firstly moved out of sight of the throne room, uncloaked and entered. He approached Anduin.

"Excuse me, my prince." Wrathion footman disguise bowed in respect, "But do you have the knowledge of the location to which your father currently resides?"

A queer look crossed Anduins face, "Why might you create such an inquiry?"

"To report the status of the Pandarian prisoners." Wrathion replied.

Anduin seemed suspicious of the footman. He felt a certain presence about him. A presence he had not felt since Pandaria.

'Could it be? Surely the Light would never betray me with a lie...' Anduin thought, a cynical brow slowly being raised.

Wrathion waited patiently, already assuming Anduin had come to the conclusion by sensing his draconic presence. Much like Deathwing, Wrathion's presence could not be undermined, especially by those who have mastered or at least practiced the usage of the Light.

Finally, Anduin spoke, "Why, yes, of course, soldier. Follow me."

Anduin lead the way through the castle, and as soon as the pair were away from earshot of the throne room, Anduin turned around and scolded Wrathion, "Wrathion, I know it is you beneath that masquerade of a footman. What purpose do you have infiltrating Stormwind Keep?"

Wrathion dropped the disguise, still within his human form, the smile etched into his voice, "Why, to claim upon my right to seek revenge on your father."

Anduin's entire expression went crooked, perplexed by the statement made by his fellow prince and friend.

"Revenge?" Anduin asked, stumped.

Wrathion nodded, "For not dismantling the Horde such as I had planned. Not much of revenge, more of petty payback through cheap, magical assisted pranks and gags. Surely even you can find humor and compensation within such childish acts."

Anduin seemed further perplexed and had to stop thinking on the subject before he developed a headache. His tone grew cynical, "Revenge on my farther? For all I know you could plunge a knife into his very back. "

"My friend," Wrathion said, smile plastered nicely across his features, his cool eyes gazing upon the naive prince, "I am a friend of the Alliance. You know I would not dare defile such a prosperous and fortunate Alliance by committing such acts of treason."

Anduin seemed still unsure, yet continued, "Besides, even if it was prankish nonsense, who is to say I would still allow you to commit such acts?"

Wrathion wrapped an arm around Anduin's shoulder, the other hand digging into his a satchel he carried with him. He had placed the potion in the precise spot as a Plan B in the likely event that Anduin would discover him.

"Anduin, my friend." Wrathion said, a smug look crossing his face, "Are you aware of magical elixirs called sleeping potions?"

Anduin had been puzzled for a split second before he fully comprehended the intent within his friend's words. His arm began to raise, summoning a bolt of Light into his palm. However, Wrathion had already drawn the potion, splashed the pink liquid onto Anduin's face. The strange mixture disappeared on contact and Anduin's eyes slammed shut, the Light rapidly disappearing in his hands. He slumped against Wrathion's frame, who leaned back slightly, underestimating the weight of his fellow prince.

Using a free hand, his other hand reached into his satchel and found another invisibility potion. He poured the elixir on both him and Anduin. He escorted his princely counterpart to his room. He dumped Anduin on his room.

Wrathion read the label of the sleeping potion:

_Only a two teaspoons of this potion may be used upon a subject. Anymore than two tea spoons may result in comma._

"_Fuck_." Wrathion cursed. Wrathion had not been one who used human vulgarity to express his frustration. However, after such a horrible misintention warranted such reaction. Not only had he put his friend into a comma, but said comma might endanger his mission. To add insult to near injury, he suddenly realized that a more efficient course of action would have been to simply check his majesty's chambers.

'Hopefully everyone will believe he is simply sleeping. I am sure royal Stormwind priests can revive poor Anduin here.' Wrathion assured himself, moving on as Anduin's invisibility wore off.

Wrathion, once again within his footman disguise, arrived at the King's chambers. He hoped that his target was currently occupying it. Thus, Wrathion once again poured an invisibility potion upon himself. He entered the chambers, silently shutting the door behind him. He heard the roar of water, as if someone were currently in the shower. Wrathion wickedly grin, removing his footman disguise.

The still invisible Wrathion headed into the King's Bathroom which had been any typical bathroom you would expect a noble to occupy.

Varian had been one of the first to install a new invention created by the Gnomes called a shower. The King had long ago been tired of having been washed by servants and had been refreshed with such a marvelous invention.

The shower was any ordinary shower from today, with blue curtains with gold trimmings at the bottom which was evenly spread out in the middle, small openings between the curtain and left wall and the curtain and right wall. His lordship had currently been rubbing shampoo into his hair.

Wrathion slipped his hand through the right side opening of the shower curtain and adjusted the hot water knob (which had been adorned with the symbol of Stormwind) on high and the cold water knob on low. Within a few seconds of performing this action, the Ghost Wolf, Varian, howled with pain, throwing aside the shower curtains as he scrambled out of his shower. Wrathion had stepped back, knowing the king would use such steps to escape.

Varian panted, his flesh turned a reddish pink, as if he were sunburned.

'Stupid machine,' Varian recanted his earlier compliments to the device, 'cannot even keep the temperatures even.'

He heard a knock upon the bathroom door. Varian shut off the water and asked who had approached the king.

"My liege," said the voice through the door, "Lord Taran Zhu requested your conference via imagery."

"Inform him that I will meet with him in a moment." King Varian replied, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"I am sorry, sire, however he requests the meeting immediately." The voice replied back.

Varian sighed, "Very well."

Taran Zhu's patience had been worn to a critical point. The prestigious Lord of the Shado-Pan had been tried tediously that day, as Taran Zhu had fought a titanic pack of Sha which had roamed the land for weeks. Among the Sha were a pack of Sha of Hatred. The Sha may have imprinted on him because he found very little patience and compassion within his being today. The last thing the leader of the Shado-Pan organization needed to hear today that two Pandarian had been unjustifiably imprisoned.

A hologram appeared in front of Taran Zhu. The hologram was a completely nude King Varian.

Taran Zhu's companions held back their chuckling and snickering, companions who included (but were not limited to) Chen Stormstout and Lorewalker Cho.

Despite Varian only being able to see Taran Zau, he heard the small noises in the background that arose from the Shado-Pan's high resistance from laughter.

"My lord," whispered Admiral Taylor from the sidelines, who had been the one to have originally approached the King Varian concerning the Pandarian's request, "your clothes seem to have disappeared."

Varian's eyes drifted downward to come to find that fact. He covered his groin area and backed away from the orb which allowed him to project himself.

Varian tried to keep a straight face and began, "Lord Tar-"

"Lord Varian," Taran Zhu interrupted, "my perception tells me that you are busy, and we will speak later after you have acquired pants and dignity. Good day."

The Orb that generated the image shut off and the Pandarians were left to the thoughts of the image they had just seen.

"Well, apparently," Chen started, in a joking manner, "the giant sword he wielded really _was_ compensate for something."

"Now, Chen," Lorewalker Cho started, as if disciplining a child "It is not of the Pandarian way to mock those less fortunate than us."

But, seconds later, the Lorewalker dropped the facade with a wicked smile growing across his face, "But, on the other hand, your right. A large king may have large kingdom, but his scepter is a story all it's own."

Varian had once again retired to his chambers, colors flushed from his face.

Varian had put on attire! Then, suddenly, it evaporated into thin air!

'Trickery' Varian thought, 'Someone is toying with me. I must find out who...'

A knock interrupted his thoughts. Admiral Taylor's voice entered the room through the door, "Ms. Proudmoore has arrived. She seeks advice concerning the Blood Elves imprisoned within Dalaran."

Varian gave a deep sigh, 'How could this go awry...'

Varian entered the throne room, fully clothed. However, at the sight of Jaina, Wrathion already had a devious plan. He withdrew a spell book from his satchel for just such an occasion.

Still invisible, Wrathion brought forth a spell book and muttered the incantation.

"Greetings, Jaina!" Varian warmly put forth, approaching her to give her a hug.

The two interlocked their arms around each other, Varian's around her waist and Jaina's around his neck.

However, while hugging, Jaina felt a familiar object, or _organ_ poking against her thigh.

She disengaged the hugged and looked down, only to see a curious item inflated within the King's lower region.

The King saw Jaina's quizzical look, and he suddenly felt a certain organ throb. He looked down, and turned pale.

Wrathion chuckled to himself, and thought, 'Well, someone is excited to see their friend. Maybe _too_ excited.'

Jaina blushed lightly. She had received this, 'warm welcome' from many of the males who visited Theramore. And Arthas. But her own dear friend Varian?

"I think…" She began, shuffling backward slowly, "I will return later. Good-bye for now."

Jaina ported out while Varian, with the absence of his son and Genn, literally banged his head lightly against the walls of his keep.

He slugged back to his room, bewildered and tired, emotion being drained.

Wrathion had one more prank to pull upon Varian. It would be the biggest deflation of his pride.

Varian felt he need to rest his eyes for even briefest of moments, thus, he crawled into bed, took a sip of water from his nightstand, and closed his eyes.

A short while later, he would be on the verge of sleep, however, a loud _BANG_ would erupt upon his door.

"WRYANN!" A voice screamed from the otherside.

Varian would recognize that voice anywhere. Garrosh.

Varian jumped out of bed, went to his sheathed sword against the wall, drew it forth, and went to open the door to face the tyrant. As the door creaked opened, slowly more of the beast's features came to view. The former warchief had a maniacal smile plastered across his red face. Grom's axe gripped tightly in his grasp.

"Hello again, Varian." Garrosh Hellscream greeted in his accustomed, darkly hinted tone.

"Rggggggh!" Varian cried as he quickly brought up his sword to bring it down upon the mass-murdering dictator, however, Garrosh jumped back and ran toward the throne room.

"Come back, Garrosh!" Varian yelled, chasing the former Orcish dictator.

Finally arriving at his destination, Garrosh turned instinctively stancing himself for combat. Varian did the same.

However, as Varian was about to charge, Garrosh Hellscream vanished into thin air and Stormwind Royal footmen materialized, seemingly out of nothing, whilst at their post in the throne room.

They all gave him odd glares, including the King of Gilneas, who stood besides the throne.

"What?" The only word Varian could utter in his severe case of confusion.

Grywann rose his eyebrow into an arch.

A royal guardsman approached the King and slowly put forth, "My liege, perhaps you should go...lie down."

Varian blinked, his brain still processing the puzzle to which the pieces never fix.

A few guards came close, Varian passively allowing them to (lightly grab him) escort him back to his room. A next Highlord within nobility took marshel over Stormwind, while Varian "rested". In yet another strange twist, royal guardsmen found the prince uncious after he failed to come down for dinner. Priests were able to revive him, and Anduin told the tale of what happened, snapping Varian out of his stupor. Varian returned to his kingly duties, knowing that the little reptilious bastard had been behind his torment. Varian would personally confront him at Garrosh's trial. Surely there, he will find justice.

**Hello, community of WoW! Much like many writers nearly everyday, I am new to this community and seek to write things you will enjoy! Unfortunate to say, this FF may lack a little quality, as it was a binge writing spree which I partaken on once when I was bored. I noticed a few flaws here concerning plot points and plot holes, but all and all, nothing for you to sharpen your pitchforks or light your torches! Trust me, a lot of my other works will be of a better quality in terms of consistency. And I am aware Wrathion is not that petty or childish and I am aware Varian isn't that stupid...but he close to it. I know first impressions count, but this was just sitting on my computer, so I decided to post. Thank you for reading, and check my page for reference of all the other stories I have in progress! Until next time, guys, see ya! **


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